A Baby in His Stocking (9 page)

A growling, laughing chase ensued with all three of them dashing behind her. When Wyatt passed, he brushed against Natalie's backside. Sparks of awareness were impossible to deny.

Even Mabel wanted in on the fun, waving her hands and shouting, “Me! Me!”

Wyatt hefted the toddler onto his shoulders and proceeded to chase the twins into the living room, growling all the way. Soon, sounds of thumping and shrieking came from upstairs.

Natalie couldn't imagine what had gotten into Wyatt for him to do such a behavioral one-eighty, but she had to admit she liked the change.

Out of breath and laughing, they all eventually landed back in the kitchen, joining Mabel at the table to make Play-Doh cakes and cookies.

Kolt and Luke stopped by with Callie, unashamed to admit they were missing Daisy and hoping to snag a free meal.

When everyone had eaten their fill, Natalie moved to clear the table, but Luke and Kolt stopped her.

“You cooked,” Luke said. “Least we can do is clean.”

“Thank you, both.” Natalie ambushed Kolt with a hug. Turning to Mabel and Esther, she said, “With my free time, you two are getting your baths.”

“Let me do it.” Wyatt took Esther from her carrier.

“Do you know how?” Natalie didn't ask to be snide, she genuinely needed to know before turning over her best friend's children to their clueless bachelor uncle.

Holding squirming Mabel under his arm, he said,
“How tough can it be? Like washing a car, only smaller, right?”

“If you say so.”

The second Wyatt was out of earshot, Luke said, “You might want to keep an eye on him. I'm not sure who's in more trouble—the girls or my brother-in-law.”

 

F
ACED WITH A PLETHORA
of bath toys and seats and lotions, Wyatt wasn't sure the pep talk he'd given himself on being a better uncle would be enough to see him through his voluntary task. From the looks of it, bath time may be more complex than he'd anticipated.

Setting Mabel on her feet, he asked, “Can you tell Uncle Wyatt what we're supposed to do?”

She pointed at a pink rubber duck. “Ducky says quack!”

“Thanks,” he said, ignoring the ball of fear in his gut. “That helps a lot.”

She pointed to a boat. “Boat goes
brrrrooooom!
”

“Esther, I don't suppose you have any clearer advice?”

The infant blew a raspberry.

Okay—well, water would be a great first start, but he wasn't sure on the temperature. Seemed like one of the women he'd dated had told him her niece screamed whenever her water was even lukewarm. Personally, he enjoyed a near-scalding shower, but that had to hurt baby skin.

Wyatt couldn't help but smile when Mabel had already stripped and climbed into a purple plastic bath chair in the tub.

“Bubbles!” She pointed to a giant bottle of Mr. Bubble.

A knock sounded on the door. Natalie asked, “How's it going?”

He scratched his head. “We're good except for water temp. Thoughts?”

“That is tricky.” On her way to the tub, she overwhelmed him with her trademark scent of watermelon lotion, along with lingering traces of her delicious dinner. She squatted to adjust the faucet, revealing a yellow polka-dot thong. “What you'll want to do is run your wrist under the warm water, like this. Checking to ensure it's not too hot. Make sense?”

The only thing that made any sense to Wyatt was Natalie removing her jeans to give him a better look at how little she wore in the way of panties.

Two weeks…

If he could keep his eye on the prize of freedom to be gained in those fourteen days, he'd no longer need worry about the naughty thoughts that had a way of popping into his head whenever she was around. As a woman growing more pregnant by the day, she was the enemy. Last thing he needed was her nonverbal reminder of the one thing he wanted, but would never have.

Mouth dry, he nodded. “Got it.”

While the tub filled and Mabel splashed, Natalie said, “Esther's the tricky one. As you can see, Mabel knows the drill.

“Set Esther's seat in the tub, preferably on the opposite end as her sister. Then, you'll want to place her in it. Use a plastic cup to get her wet, then go over her body with the baby wash and rinse. For her hair, there's baby shampoo. Once you finish, she has a special towel—” she pointed to a hooded pink hippo hanging on the wall “—just put it over her head and pat her
nice and dry. Then you add lotion, a fresh diaper, pajamas and
voilà,
you have a baby ready for bed.”

“How'd you learn to do all of this?”

Her helpful smile faded. “You know Josie had a daughter with her first husband, right?”

Wyatt nodded. “Dallas mentioned it.”

“Emma was Josie's life. Josie's been my best friend since the day she came to town, and she shared every precious moment of raising her baby with me. It was fun. But losing Emma was—” Natalie looked away, swiping tears. “Sorry. Raging hormones have me crying at everything from Hallmark commercials to roadkill.”

“It's okay.”

“Bubbles!” Mabel demanded from the tub.

“Guess we should get back to work,” Natalie said, taking Esther from him, removing her tiny clothes.

“Let me do that,” Wyatt said, easing alongside Natalie in the tight space. “Since we're in this together for a couple more weeks, I need to learn.”

She cast him a questioning look, but thankfully didn't speak. Instead, she lined up all of the potions he'd need, handed him a fresh washcloth and then did something he couldn't begin to understand: without a word, she cupped his shoulder, kissed the top of his head and then left the room.

When Natalie left the cramped space she'd shared with Wyatt and the kids, she was trembling. In the moment her gaze had locked with Wyatt's, he'd told her without saying a word that he truly, deeply cared about the children in their charge. He'd told her that for all of his bluster, he did have a heart—more than he wanted anyone to know. Especially her.

In the kitchen, she made a cup of mint tea.

She wiped the counters free of the crumbs Luke and Kolt had missed.

Most of all, she waited. From upstairs came muffled sounds of laughter that made her wonder all the more at Wyatt's sudden transformation. Why had he chosen tonight to fully engage in not only Esther's care, but his other three nieces', as well?

When Wyatt finally ambled down the back staircase, Natalie pounced. “What's wrong with you?”

“Excuse me?”

With Luke and the big kids in the movie room with explosions blaring, she felt safe to say exactly what was on her mind. “You're a walking contradiction. One minute, your actions—your whole demeanor—are in attack mode. The next, you're this warm, loving uncle
trying to do his best by these little girls. Which man are you? Because at the moment, I'm confused.”

“Look,” he said on his way to the fridge. “I'll be first to admit I'm far from perfect, but then who is? All I can do is try to make up for past mistakes and, Nat, a lot of those include the way I've acted around you.”

Not sure what to say, she bowed her head.

“After Esther's christening, you and I shared a connection—based on mutual frustration with our families, but still there.” He removed a beer only to set it on the counter. Now he stood behind her. Not touching her, but close enough for heat and awareness to shimmer as if their bodies were hot blacktop on an endless summer day. “I'm tired, Nat. I need—” He sharply exhaled. “Ever since I found out I could never father a child, I've worked hard to distance myself from damn near everyone I encounter. Not sure how or even why, but it dawned on me that the effort is exhausting. I'm tired of fighting. I just want to live, you know. Stop worrying about it.”

Though the counselor in Natalie longed to turn around and give Wyatt a hug, the woman Craig's sweet words had destroyed was wary. How many times had Craig told her what she wanted to hear, only to get what he wanted, then, when it served him, walk away? She wasn't sure what Wyatt could possibly want from her—surely not casual sex—but what? Could it be as simple as him needing a genuine friend?

If so, in her turbulent hormonal state, was there anything simple about the way she'd been feeling whenever the man was near?

While giving the girls their bath, she'd caught a glimpse of him she'd only dreamt about. She'd never denied his being handsome. Or the way her body
hummed with awareness whenever he was around. Part of her wanted him to be aware of her, too. But not in superficial ways such as thinking she had great hair and eyes, but on a deeper level. She wanted him to appreciate the accomplished woman she'd become. But why? Because no matter how many signals her body sent to steal another kiss, her conscience knew he was wrong for her in every conceivable way.

“You're too quiet.” Wyatt finally uncapped his beer to take a swig. Back to the fridge, he removed the leftover taco meat, took a spoon from the nearest drawer and proceeded to feast. “Makes me suspicious. Like you're plotting my demise.”

Covering her face with her hands, she shook her head. “You make me crazy.”

“Trust me, the feeling's mutual.” Setting his snack to the counter, he crossed to her, taking her hands in his. “Kissing you at Esther's christening was a mistake.
Huge.
”

Heart racing, Natalie wanted to admit to feeling the same, but her brain was so focused on his nearness—the scent of tacos and beer on his warm breath—that her mouth no longer worked.

“Because ever since then, regardless of how many times a day we bicker, all I want to do is this…” Lowering his lips to hers, what this kiss lacked in showiness, it made up for in layer upon layer of emotion. The sweetness could've made her weep. The unmasked wanting made her incapable of denying how badly she wanted more. To know him skin to skin.

Dizzying, thrilling moments later, he drew back. The intensity in his eyes read as a challenge. As if he dared her to deny what they'd shared hadn't been amazing.

She looked down only to realize she'd fisted his shirt and now clung to him for support. Her legs had long since gone rubbery and her lungs no longer seemed to work.

He kissed her again, and their bold sweep of tongues did nothing to help her return to reality long enough to push him away. “Damn, you taste good. Like candy I've been teased with for decades and only just now got to taste.”

“But this doesn't change anything,” she reminded. “You and me are pals—nothing more.”

“Woman,” he brushed his lips against the base of her throat, in the process sending shimmering pleasure coursing through her body, “you talk too damned much.”

Agreed. But someone needed to be the voice of logic before they both ended up doing something they'd regret in the morning. Though, a long-buried part of her wondered if she woke in Wyatt's arms would she crave doing it again and again?

“Eeeeeew!”
Bonnie and Betsy cried in unison.

Bonnie took her protest a step further by asking, “Uncle Wyatt, why are your hands on Miss Natalie's butt?”

 

L
ONG AFTER
L
UKE AND
K
OLT
left, after the twins had finally drifted off to sleep, Wyatt tossed and turned in the guest room. He was too hot, and pushed back the covers. Then he was cold. His pillows were too flat. He grabbed extra from the bed's empty side, but then they were too tall.

Growling in frustration, he sat up and scratched his chest.

Usually, he went right to sleep, so what was the problem?

A sassy brunette flashed before his mind's eye. She wore her pregnancy beautifully. Some future moms were sick the whole time and complexions blotchy, but not Natalie. Her skin glowed. Her eyes were bright. Over the years, he'd been with many incredibly beautiful women. Natalie didn't have conventional looks. She had an inner glow he found far more intriguing than the usual great rack.

But why? Not only was he on the verge of leaving the country, but she represented the one thing he was trying to escape. In acknowledging her magnetic pull, he'd become a walking contradiction. He said he wanted nothing more than to never see another pregnant woman, but in Natalie's case, he couldn't get enough.

Pushing to his feet, he adjusted the fly of his boxers, then opened his bedroom door, creeping down the hall to her room.

Once there, he should've knocked, but didn't.

Feet soundless on thick carpet, he crawled in bed alongside her, bunching pillows beneath his head before giving her shoulder a gentle nudge. “Natalie? You awake?”

Dressed in an old-fashioned flannel nightgown, she bolted upright, hugging the sheet to her chest. “What are you doing, scaring me half to death? In case you haven't noticed, I'm about a hundred months pregnant. At the worst I could have the baby right now, or at best, pee the bed.”

He laughed. “Sorry. Need me to change the sheets?”

“No,” she said with an outraged smack to his bare chest.

Under different circumstances, he would've trapped
her hand with his, but Wyatt figured he was already in enough hot water.

“Get out. Seriously.”

“I will,” he promised, easing up onto his elbow. “Just give me a minute.”

“For what?”

“Truth? Your kiss has me all hot and bothered and—”

“
My
kiss?” She coughed. “I was ambushed.”

“Sugar,” he flashed his best cocky cowboy smile, “it's a little late to plead innocence. You were just as into it.”

“Maybe I was, but that doesn't give you the right to barge into my bed, expecting more.”

“Bit presumptuous, Miss Lewis. I'm solely here to talk.”

She pummeled him again.

Grabbing her wrists, he pulled her in for a replay of their dessert. Only this time, with fewer clothes between them, her breasts mounded soft and full against his chest, causing an erection that was both pleasure and pain.

“No,” she moaned, pushing him away only to pull him back.

“I agree.” Yet he couldn't stop kissing her.

After a deep sigh, she pulled back. “Talk. Th-that's why you're here, right?”

“Yeah.” Heels of his hands to his forehead, he said, “Okay, so we've been fixtures in each other's lives for so long we're like furniture, right?”

“Way to make me feel special.”

“You know what I mean. I've always considered you a good-looking woman, but since kissing you at Esther's christening, I can't stop thinking of you in
terms of someone I want to know better—only, that's no good. You're Natalie. You deserve to be treated like someone special. Only I'm in no position to give anything other than meaningless sex.” He wished for more lighting so he could see her expression.

“This the part where I confess that's all I want, too? Just a quick tickle and poke?” After a sharp laugh, she said, “We have chemistry. Big deal. It doesn't mean anything. We don't mean anything.”

She was right. So how come deep inside he feared ignoring his growing fascination with her would be wrong?

 

“H
E DIDN'T
,” C
AMI SAID
over lunch in Natalie's office later that week. While Esther slept in her carrier, Mabel rummaged through the toy chest Natalie kept on hand for times when visiting parents brought younger siblings. Though Natalie was on an indefinite leave of absence, she'd been cooped up at the ranch for so long with Wyatt that she'd desperately needed out. “What did you say?”

Natalie covered her flushed face with her hands. “I don't remember. I was so mortified by his even being there, let alone kissing me, I couldn't think straight. A few minutes later, he left, and I spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling.”

Cami took a bite of her chicken salad. “Wonder what Josie would say about this development?”

“I'd love to know, but the last thing I want her worrying about is an event this irrelevant.”

“How is the best kiss you've ever had irrelevant?”

“Because,” Natalie said, stabbing her fork through a cherry tomato, “regardless of how much I enjoyed what
happened between Wyatt and me, it will never happen again.”

“What if it does?” Cami's eyebrows raised in challenge. “Are you strong enough to resist full-force Buckhorn charm?”

The question made Natalie's pulse race, but did nothing to diminish her resolve. “Here's the thing— Wyatt's leaving. I'm having Craig's baby alone because I stupidly believed our child would be the glue needed to bind us together. With Wyatt, even if I wanted something more than those few kisses, I'm smart enough to know there's not even a question of whether or not he may one day leave. His flight's already scheduled. Trust me, from now until the day he goes, this little flirtation we've been playing with is done.”

 

“L
UKE TELLS ME YOU AND
Nat have been hooking up.” Cash hefted a hay bale from the truck bed to the south pasture feeding area. Though the temperature was chilly, the sun packed enough heat to bring out a sweat.

“Where'd you hear that?” Wyatt slung his next bale with extra force. He was already tired from no sleep. Last thing he needed was for his business to be spread all over hell and creation.

“Bonnie told Kolt she found you two doing
it.
Kolt told his dad. His dad told me.”

“This family does love to gossip.” Removing his hat, Wyatt wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his denim shirt. “First, all we were doing is making out. And second, Bonnie needs her mouth washed out with soap.”

“No need to get defensive. I'm just making conversation.”

In the midst of snorting, mooing and chewing cattle,
they unloaded the last remaining bales in silence, then used knives to slit the bailing twine, gathering it all before climbing back into the truck.

“You do know,” Cash said, removing his leather work gloves and slapping them to the dash, “since Nat's practically family, you can't use her for sex. Plus, she's pregnant. I get the turn-on factor—Wren was seriously hot with my baby in her oven. But Nat's baby isn't even yours, which makes you dipping in that particular pond like poaching.”

To keep from punching his little brother, Wyatt gripped the wheel especially hard. The old road had enough dips and deep tire ruts to warrant his full attention. “Not that what I do is any of your business, but for the last time, there's nothing going on between me and Nat.”

Cash snorted. “Then why were your hands all over Nat's ass?”

“Bonnie needs a good old-fashioned spanking.”

“No doubt about it, but my question still stands.”

“All right, look, we've shared a few hot times, but that's it. Call it an experiment gone bad. We've both made it plain it goes no further. End of story.”

“If you say so.” Cash's sarcastic tone made it clear he wasn't buying the line Wyatt was selling. “Just keep in mind Nat happens to be Josie's best friend. You piss off Nat, you piss off your sister-in-law, which pisses off Dallas. Last thing you need is him breathing fire down your neck.”

“Stop,” Wyatt said with a narrowed-eyed, sideways glare. “I'm a grown man and will make out with whomever I please, whenever I please. Dallas can huff and puff all he wants, but I seriously don't give a—”

“Watch out!”

Wyatt swerved to avoid hitting a winter calf, in the process ramming the right front tire onto a jagged stump. Freakin' swell. Now, he not only had a busted tire to deal with, but more time with his little brother.